


Pretty little mistake

by starrystarrytrouble



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Book 2 slow burn, Boss/Employee Relationship, But thinking about banging, F/M, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Office, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, They're in the office and trying not to bang, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 03:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30082824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrystarrytrouble/pseuds/starrystarrytrouble
Summary: MC fantasising about Ethan in the office, set sometime during book 2.
Relationships: Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Pretty little mistake

**Author's Note:**

> A filthy drabble I’ve written to get back into writing smut and because I'm denying book 3 exists. We're all about the slow burn.

Every woman is allowed one mistake. 

That’s what she tells herself. One wicked make out in the back of a club, a forbidden hand you beg to slip under your skirt in an elevator, ten thousand sinful seconds with the one man you shouldn’t. 

Fucking your boss twice ranks high on the that list. 

But it doesn’t feel like a mistake. 

She taps her blue pen on the table rapidly, the fast thrum matching her heartbeat which won’t stop racing since he walked into the room. 

They work together enough that this shouldn’t be an issue but when he rolls up his sleeve, the silky fabric rippling over his tanned forearm as he musses his soft hair with the other palm, it’s definitely an issue. 

She likes watching him she’s realised, far more than she should. It’s a cat and mouse game with herself, how far can she push her own desire before she has to snap back. Everything about him is distracting, but most of all it’s his hands. She knows how soft they feel, the things he can do with them, the way they could trace the outline of her chest in the dead of night and slip lower past her stomach, teasing a lingering path across her inner leg and then, in one fast plunge, wreck her from inside. 

She knows exactly what it feels like to come apart on his hands. The searing white heat of the moment, the rise and fall of her chest in tandem with his and then being utterly torn apart. 

It feels wrong now, every time she sees his fingers on a chart, around a coffee cup, at the keyboard, she knows them intimately. And in a parallel universe she’s sure they’re all over her. 

He stands at the board and stares at some scans. Brow furrowed, pale lines of concentration around his glowing blue eyes, she stays perfectly still and soaks in the sight. Holding her breath, she ghosts herself so she can stay with him. 

He moves lightly, fiddles with that damn sleeve again, moving his shirt higher, the cotton clinging to his bicep in protest in just the right way to force her to sigh. 

What do you do when your own body is betraying you. 

She uncrosses and crosses her legs, trying to ignore the heat that’s building in her, and bites her lip. Hard until she can taste her own lipstick. 

Which doesn’t help at all, because this is the moment he decides to fix his gaze on her. Her mouth specifically, his eyes drawn on the dark red, which wasn’t supposed to be enticing, a purely professional shade, but he’s staring at her lips so hard she’s not sure chapstick wouldn’t be alluring to him. 

They stay there stuck, his eyes on her mouth, hers on his face and she dreads him looking up, breaking whatever spell has befallen them. 

She wants to be calm, stay in control. 

She’s as interesting to him as he is to her, and she’s sure if she had the chance to find out, she’d find his body weak. Ready to tumble into the same cloudy fog of adoration as she is. Her mind falters completely and slips to his skin under her tongue, the salty taste of his neck, and she’s descending downwards now, past his collarbone, the hardness of his chest pressed flat against her fingers as her mouth slides below. 

He looks up and meets her eye just as she imagines her mouth at his waistband. The flush that appears on her face gives her a rosy glow and she can’t even remember why she’s in the room or what she meant to say. 

“I…”

He pierces through. Says nothing, makes no attempt to free her from this iron vice but just watches, the depth of his gaze tearing through her. 

And out of nowhere she’s that girl. The one teetering on the edge of making a fierce mistake. Unapologetic.

She stares straight back, and slowly, with utterly sinful intent, runs her tongue over the seam of her lip. 

He exhales sharply sending a shiver over her and he’s fixed back on her damn mouth. 

So she does it again, runs her tongue to the edge, holding his perfect blue eyes, and this time, when his breath catches, she moves closer. 

Close enough that the heat from his body envelopes hers, to feel his breath skirt softly over her face, close enough that she feels her hand press against his chest and still his heart.

Only it burns under her own hands. And she remembers that it’s not just his she knows, he knows hers too, knows the way her fingers can press into his thighs and claw at his back, and hold his velvet skin as she works her mouth over him. 

She’s not sure either of them can remember how to breathe anymore. 

This is the kingdom of silence and raging hearts. 

The two of them locked seconds from caving in and seconds from springing apart. 

She wonders what will come first, the bruising kiss or the knock at the door, but she stays there locked, willing either fate or chance to take control.

She feels his palm move over her skin. 

When his hand hits hers, she doesn’t know if he’ll hold it or tear it away.


End file.
